A NOTE FOR READERS: The journals of Zong-Tossu, though fascinating, should not be taken as accurate. Even though he was considered a great ghav-urath, eventually many of his writings were dismissed as the products of severe psychosis by the ruling council of Thamasku and simply regarded as fiction or parody. It was rumored Zong-Tossu had a mental breakdown caused by his usage of the narcotic cam-rahn.

As Oracle, the de facto leader of the Pariahs, guided us to the cavern, we were freed of our bonds and walked freely among the Pariah folk. Though we were all in awe of these so-called “Pariahs”, Tr’Shadai was especially especially amazed with the variety of forms we witnessed: four armed giants, cyclopsids, centaurids, and two-headed individuals; some of the Pariahs were slender individuals with no arms who ran quickly on their extra-long legs, while others were strong-armed types with atrophied legs who walked on their knuckles like the great apes of Athas’ jungles.

“You see now why we call ourselves the Pariahs… the Wrongly Formed?” Oracle said to us as we passed amongst his people. “It was not always like this for us; it is said that once we looked much as you do, Zong Tossu and Tr’Shadai - noble of appearance and stable of form. While we have long accepted our multitude of shapes and deformities, we know that we would be cursed and decried, perhaps even attacked and driven out, should we ever meet our brethren - so Pariahs we call ourselves.

We crossed a vast mudflat during what appeared to be low tide. Smaller Pariahs - probably the children of these incredibly varied beings - were chasing crabs and other sea creatures trapped by the withdrawn waters. Many of the crustaceans scuttled to hide under smooth flat stones, causing some of the children to use their brute-like strength to flip the stones while others smashed the invertebrates with their fists or used rocks to bludgeon the shellfish and then swiftly devour them.

As we crossed the mudflat, I finally found my voice: “How were we ‘long-expected’ here, Oracle? We only recently came to this place, and it was only by accident, not by design. Now we seem to be trapped here, with no way home.” At this, Oracle chuckled, saying “The Dervish Octopus told me of you, of course, just as it will tell you how to return to your home. Come.”

Beyond the mudflat, we came to a small island with a yawning cave opening. There, our guides grabbed what appeared to be some type of strange anemones, gently tickling them to produce a green and blue bioluminescence. They then placed these glowing organisms against their bodies (to which the creatures immediately adhered) and ventured into the cavern.

As we ventured into the cavern, we were taken aback by the highly detailed cave art painted on the walls: images of a strange creature (eerily similar to a gon-evauth - a soar whale) swimming in a sea of stars; images of the creature suffering a great collision or attack; images of the great creature, severely wounded but still swimming, with many large pieces of itself trailing away; images of the pieces trailing fire and crashing into various spheres and orbs, including one large orb with two smaller, especially familiar spheres around it; images of the larger of those two spheres, now very familiar-looking and golden hued, with one of the broken pieces swimming towards it, still trailing fire; images of Rhul-thaun-like creatures covered in strangely familiar armored suits, fighting off crab-like creatures in one scene and mantoids - this made Cho’ka click angrily when he saw it - in another. As we passed the cave art, the artistry slowly declined until, by the last, the images were crude and undetailed. The final image seemed to portray disfigured beings - likely the Pariahs - fighting off a vast armada of spider-folk - the chitine? - in great sailing vessels, using what looked like soar whales and spears of strangely varied lengths.

Some time after we passed the last of the wall art, Oracle turned in his basket and spoke: “Soon we will arrive at the Dervish Octopus - a strange beast that produces many powerful inks from its body as it spins. Then you will see how I knew you would come, and what you are to do!” With that, Oracle turned his wrinkled and atrophied body away from us to rest in his basket while his bruteish bearer continued down the winding passages of the vast subterranean system.

Eventually, we arrived in a great glowing forest of fungal growths and lichens, with various rotting logs lying about. The cavern floor was soft and squishy underfoot as the decaying vegetation slowly composted into rich soil. This nutritious loam supported a host of bioluminescent fungi, some of which grew to enormous size and glowed in a multitude of colors, lighting the chamber in vibrantly-cool hues of blue, green, and dark orange. At the center of this forested cavern, there lay a pond of clear, faintly glowing water, in which rested a great polychromatic octopus.

The Pariahs split into two different groups - some walked to the great fungi, reached up under the mushroom caps, and began to wring out the spore-bearing gills, producing a thick, milky-white substance. The others began to dance in a circle around the faintly luminous pool and play flutes.

Oracle turned to us and said in his broken tongue: “This is the song of the rebirth of the cosmos, which we play to honor the creation and renewal of the universe and awaken the Dervish Octopus.” The sight was a strange one, with the misshapen Pariahs dancing with their flutes around a large octopus that slowly awakened! Its eyes fluttered open, as did a great violet-hued third eye, to gaze at the strange host of flute playing, malformed beings.

Once the octopus was fully awakened, it began to spin around throughout the pool. Oracle clapped his hands and again spoke “It is time, retrieve the inks of prophecy!” Several brutes stepped over on their calloused knuckles and knees and, using cup-like shells, collected the various different-colored inks that had begun to spew from the now spinning octopus.

Soon enough, the large Pariahs then took their colored inks and mixed them with the fungal milk retrieved from the mushrooms. Oracle clapped his hands again and spoke “This is the Ceremony of Prophecy - the inks are toxic and must be mixed with the fungal milk to be made safe to drink. Be warned: once consumed, they will show you visions of the past, future, and of other realities.”

Before him were four elixirs made from the inks of the dervish octopus: one was a deep crimson color, one an azure blue, another jade green, and the last golden in coloration. Oracle spoke once more: “The first elixir will let you see into the past, the second will show you your future, the third will show you a potential future or another world, and the last will purge you of all the inks. Each of you must drink from each of the elixirs, and you must describe to us what you see. Remember: consume the golden elixir last!”